My first "3 im" was in the summer of 2013. It was a sunny June afternoon, Johan and I were on borrowed bicycles and had just finished exploring the Nazi Party Rally Grounds. We'd pulled off the bike path for a sit and sip at a seasonal biergarten, which consisted of a couple of guys in a small hut serving beer, sausage, and pretzels for enjoyment at surrounding picnic tables.

After Vienna, Johan and I spent our next couple of nights in Bratislava. We stayed right in the heart of the old town (Staré Mesto), which I highly recommend if you're also an enthusiast of cobblestone streets, narrow, winding alleys and colorful facades.

Ah, the passing of time. The older we get, the faster it seems to go. Perhaps this is why it feels as though the entire summer season has slipped away—if not unnoticed then at least slightly under-appreciated. In an effort to squeeze a proper vacation out of the last dregs of summer, Johan and I took a mid-September week to go on a road trip.

A few weeks ago, I thought I'd try my hand at baking sourdough bread. This is not something I've attempted before (baking any bread, for that matter), but I knew I wanted the full experience—from sourdough starter to slicing into a perfectly crisp, still-warm loaf.

On something of a whim, Johan and I decided to drive down to Berchtesgaden this past Sunday to visit the Kehlsteinhaus (better-known in English as the Eagle's Nest). The weather forecast alleged a clear and sunny 28° day, perfect for enjoying mountain views.